


Voicing It Out

by stardustlings (kas2umi)



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ, JYJ (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Drug Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mental Instability, Post-lawsuit, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 21:31:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10396590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kas2umi/pseuds/stardustlings
Summary: The toughest battles fought are those against our own selves; his was no exception.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [kpopolymfics2017](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/kpopolymfics2017) collection. 



> This fic was written for K-Pop Olymfics 2017. Olymfics is a challenge in which participants write fics based on prompt sets and compete against other teams of writers, organized by genre. 
> 
> This is Team Canon’s fic for the following prompt set:  
>  **Joonil Jung – "Plastic"**  
> [lyrics](http://kpoply.com/joonil-jung-plastic-feat-bewhy-music-video-english-lyrics/) | [video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z7ZVCnoRNIQ) | [supplementary](https://www.flickr.com/photos/llamas4kelsey/26288967684/in/pool-if-you-leave/) [prompts](http://theskepticisafool.tumblr.com/post/22714163581/by-all-green-dreams)
> 
> The other 2 fics for this prompt can be found in [the collection](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/kpopolymfics2017). Competition winners are chosen by the readers, so please rate this fic using [this survey](https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSfBiwS_O482D1KyqmCzotl4WQ1-p7h7F3Bp3hmio0qD1RT7MA/viewform?usp=sf_link%20%E2%80%A6)!
> 
>  
> 
> _**(a long thank-you note)**_  
>  _special thanks go to mira (who helped me establish my timeline), my baby koala (for the constant support and cuddles) and my amazing eonnie (for betaing this and helping it see the light of the day). i want to thank my captain hedgehog for being so kind with my fear of the deadline (you are the best), my sweet baby (you know who you are) for cheering my bum on and on, it meant a world ;;. i also want to thank my food dissecting dongsaeng (and probably a lost sister of mine) for the never ending supply of exo feels (i discovered a kink for sugar daddy kris, don’t ask me how). last, but not least, i want to squeeze the life out of a certain aquarius puppy that made me fall in love with another otp ;A;. to my _amazing team_ , i love you all and i am more than happy to have been a part of our little gay crew and yes, i did it for that bathtub scene._

**_November 2001, Seoul_ **

Yunho thought first snowfalls were supposed to be romantic events, and yet there he was. Left forearm pressed against the taller boy’s neck and both feet steady on the ground, he used all his willpower not to press too hard; the air was thick and heavy, cold seeping its way into his lungs. He was not prepared for the wind that greeted his worn out jacket that very morning let alone for the sudden confrontation with a gang of homeless kids. Yunho sensed the punch before he could feel it – his right side throbbing in pain and his hold of the other boy faltered. He fell onto the cold, dirty surface of the alley they chose to ambush him in and two pairs of legs kicked his sides repeatedly.

All he could think at that moment was that his father was right. What could a 15 year old boy from Kwangju do in Seoul anyway, survive on his own? He had proven the man wrong so far, going against the odds and making it through one day after another – each tougher and harsher than the one before. But as his cheek shivered at the sensation of first snow mixed with mud, all he could think about was how warm his room back home must be.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The boy heard someone shout and before he could even fully grasp the turn of events he could no longer feel sneaker clad legs kicking at his sides. The boy he had pinned to the wall just moments ago was now leaning against the trash container, left palm trying to stop the blood from gushing out of his nose. The other two looked at the newcomer and after exchanging a look between themselves they took off; their third wheel long forgotten and discarded like he wasn’t the leader of their little gang. It made Yunho laugh despite the pain shooting up his sides.

“Are you okay?” The new boy approached him, taking his chin in a firm grip as to inspect if his face was okay. Yunho didn’t like it.

“I’m fine,” he all but slapped the other’s arm away, slowly trying to get back on his feet. “Thank you for your help.” He didn’t like being the one on the receiving end of anyone’s sympathy, let alone help. He could have gotten them all alone. “You didn’t have to get involved.”

The newcomer didn’t seem fazed even one bit by the other’s words and with a smile he extended his hand. “You’re welcome.” He spoke, his hand hanging in the space between them and Yunho finally caught on. Taking the boy’s hand in his own he offered a small smile of his own.

“I’m Jung Yunho,” he shook the other’s hand. “Sorry for earlier, I am not used to being in need of help.”

The other boy grinned. “Kim Jaejoong.” Breaking the handshake he put Yunho’s arm around his shoulder, helping the other boy stand up fully. “We all need help, it’s only our choice whether we’ll voice that need out or not.”

It was on that 23rd November morning, the day when wind blew so hard and snowflakes touched the ground for the first time that year, Jung Yunho found out that the boy named Kim Jaejoong, aside his fragile appearance and pale complexion was not a typical one.

 

**_January 2012, Seoul_ **

_'Hey, when you get this call me back. We gotta talk.'_ Another voicemail from Yoochun. The sun was warm on his skin as it shone through the massive glass windows and Jaejoong squinted his eyes in annoyance; who the hell left the curtains open?

_'Oh and, hyung. Happy birthday.'_

Palming his face in an attempt to rub the sleepiness off Jaejoong sighed. The bed felt too cold in the spots his body hadn't touched throughout the short three hours of sleep. Checking his phone once again he groaned - too many messages from too many people, not something he was in the mood for at the moment.

Turning on his side and shielding his face from the sun rays, Jaejoong stared blankly at the wall he was currently facing. He could close his eyes and outline each and every detail of it - the lamp next to it, that painting in the middle right. The crack in the color at the edge of the wooden cabinet. It's been too many times he has woken up and just stared at the creamy surface and now, one time too many.

"Happy birthday." He let out into thin air and fought to suppress a chuckle. "As if I need a constant reminder that even the day I was born was made up." It was not too long before he was holding back a sob, the outlines of the wall getting mushy and smeared in his brain as a ringing voice shouted over and over again - abandoned.

His own biological parents couldn't love him, how could anyone else? Jaejoong didn't know.

 

_**April 2012, Seoul** _

"I need to reassure you, Jaejoong-shi, that anything you say from now on remains between you and me, it's the basis of-" Jaejoong cut him off.

"I know, I just, please - I don't want our sessions to be recorded. It's okay to take as many notes as you want Jihoon-shi but hearing my voice on that tape would be far too personal and intimidating."

The psychiatrist noted something down on his pad and faced the singer once again. "Understood, if that's how you want this to proceed. My goal, after all, is to make you feel as comfortable as I can while we look for the cause of the problem."

"I appreciate it."

Jaejoong was never a fan of silences like the one that seeped into the cozy room. Him sitting on the spacious lather couch and the man facing him in a matching chair, neither uttering a sound. The synced clicking of the wall clock was all too loud all of the sudden and before the atmosphere could get any heavier the doctor spoke.

"So," He crossed his palms on one knee. "Shall be begin Jaejoong-shi?"

Jaejoong took a deep breath. There he was; about to open up to a complete stranger. _‘no’_ he mused in his thoughts, _‘he’s a professional, who better than him.’_

"Yes, let's begin."

-

He was no longer a kid. Those hopeful doe eyes that always shone with excitement and mischief were long gone, Jaejoong was more than aware of that. And as he poured himself a glass of scotch, face unwashed and teeth unbrushed, the man knew any coherent part of him was gone too.

Too many mornings have started like this one. Too many days of keeping himself shut behind those doors, cutting out his friends and family. The family that had no reason to stick to his sides. After all, he was just an addition. He groaned at the thought.

Moving past the living room Jaejoong turned his phone off. He was not ready to deal with a worried Yoochun or a fretting Junsu. He was not ready for congratulatory messages and high pitched screams of 'happy birthday'. It would all be too much.

The sun was almost high in the sky as he opened the glass doors leading to the spacious balcony, an onslaught of fresh air greeted his shirt clad torso. The feeling of warmth against his skin was reassuring and sickening at the same time as he sat atop the wooden table, facing the outlines of the city ahead.

Jaejoong could hear the busy traffic swamping the Seoul streets, he could almost feel the adrenaline rush of people as they go on about their lives always in a hurry to get somewhere. Never quite on time for anything.

The air was too thick with warmth for a January morning.

Taking a particularly long sip of the alcohol he lit a cigarette. The first intake of smoke felt all too good in his lungs, body relaxing and eyes closing on instinct.

The only thing he could see and feel in that dark was him.

Yunho, Yunho, Yunho.

And once again, it started.

-

"Do you think it left a big impact on who you've become today?"

Jaejoong doesn't quite remember how he got to this subject from that first greeting, but weren't these things supposed to work that way?

"I was kid, of course it hurt me." He spoke incredulously as if the doctor was stupid enough not to understand. "How would you feel if you were in my spot and got avoided like the plague or some disease? It hurt." Jaejoong crossed his arms and leaned further into the couch. "To know that fans didn't like me to the extent of not wanting to get an autograph from me was pretty discouraging."

"I see," Doctor Kwon scribbled something on his pad. "So we can say that event from years ago could have affected the way you see and value yourselves compared to other people? Like, your band mates for example?"

Jaejoong stared. He would have never phrased it that way.

"I guess."

"But you are not certain?"

The singer sighed. "Look, I don't know. I guess I am a bit too insecure. An adopted child from a father that never cared for him and a mother that gave him up becomes the youngest out of nine children. Fans ditched me on that day, fans asked that I leave the group." He spat out and took a deep breath, he was not to get riled up because of it. "So yeah, you can say I am insecure. I've been abandoned too many times to think I'd deserve anything better than that."

-

Jaejoong tries to recall a time when everything was alright - somewhere way back in the past. He can feel the outlines and sense the comfort of knowing someone will always be there, help him get back on his feet and pat his shoulder with a soft _‘you’ve worked hard’_. He tries to remember it all but to no avail.

Pouring the hot water over a bowl of instant ramen he sat atop the kitchen isle. Chopsticks in one hand he clicks them against the dark marble surface of the element to be met with a dull sound. It’s not as satisfying as he thought it would be.

He thinks about Yunho. About the past and the beginnings. About the end. And the whole process of decomposition in between. Some stories simply have sad endings, Jaejoong recalls a time Fukutaro spoke those words. He refused to believe them then. But now, just maybe, he could see into those words more carefully. After all, a successful grown man drinking scotch and eating ramen in the morning was not quite the prologue of a ‘happily ever after’.

Jaejoong tries to remember whose fault was it again.

He’s adamant on the side of the story that blames the other man as much as it releases himself of the guilt. Yunho was at fault. Yunho never saw it coming. And Jaejoong thinks that even after all this time he can’t forgive the man.

Despite that annoying little sound in the back of his mind, screaming - _delusional_.

-

“Why alcohol?” The therapist makes some more notes. “Don’t get me wrong Jaejoong-shi, we all have our guilty vices. What I meant to say was, why did you start drinking at a such young age? Not to mention it is illegal.”

Jaejoong laughs. “We all know kids these days can find a way to indulge in some soju or beer. It’s not that big of a deal anyway. It’s better if they build their tolerance while younger, it will do them good at parties when they reach mid 20s. “

Doctor Kwon sends him a small, knowing smile. “We’re not here to discuss whether our country is doing a good job in enforcing its basic laws neither it is in our power to determine how healthy underage drinking is.” He makes a short pause. “We’re here to talk about your problem with alcohol and whether you accept that it’s there.”

Jaejoong doesn’t want to talk about it. He insists it’s not a big deal and all men drink as much as he does, but he knows it’s not true. He knows it was as unhealthy and toxic as his behavior afterwards; but what could he possibly do now to make it all better? It’s all in the past after all.

“Jaejoong-shi,” The psychiatrist leans closer to the seated male. “You need to understand that we all have our problems, and to us - they seem like the hardest obstacle to overcome. But to do so, we must dive deep inside ourselves, to the very core and essence and search; the cause can be as harmless as a little ladybug and destructive as a butterfly effect.” The doctor notes how Jaejoong’s eyes fall uncomfortably to stare at the interlaced fingers against his abdomen. “Don’t be afraid to dive inside your own self and mind. But know this - not knowing what caused you pain or discomfort can be the reason people drown in the process of doing so. That’s why these sessions are so important.”

The singer says nothing for a few minutes. Eyes trained on his lap, Jaejoong rewinds the tape until it halts next to something he does not like remembering. “In 2006, I had a DUI.” He starts.

“Drinking was never a big deal for me, neither for some other trainees back in the day when I first started. It made me, feel adult. Grown up at only fifteen. But of course, we did it for fun. It was interesting to see who could spew more nonsense before our heads hit the table.”

“It was tough you know? When we were trainees.” His heart hurts remembering the days he didn’t have enough money to eat. A scrawny skinny boy with jet black hair and huge eyes. Nothing but a disposable pawn. “I even sold my blood many times just to get a bit of money in my hands. Alcohol -” he chuckles. “It was just a way to forget how fucked up the system was.”

Doctor didn’t interrupt him.

“And our Japanese debut, ha. That was a low blow. Could you imagine going from performing in front of thousands to a mere 500 people?” Jaejoong bites his lip in annoyance. “It was not fair. We had to start all over on top of being in a country whose language we knew shit about.”

“So yeah. You could say drinking my depression of being too far from home and friends became a habit of some sort. That is until the DUI.”

“What happened then?”

“He got mad. Like really mad.”

The psychiatrist scribbled down something. “He who?”

“Oh,” Jaejoong’s eyes shoot up. “My former bandmate and leader, Yunho.”

“Tell me about him.”

-

Jaejoong can’t remember the last time he had written a letter. Perhaps somewhere in middle-school to a girl he thought had long pretty hair. Expressing his emotions through words always came in the form of lyrics and occasional poems, and letters were - well, outdated.

And there was no reason he was currently sitting at his desk, a soft beige paper and pen lying idly on the mahogany surface.

What could he possibly write? It has been more than a while since the last time they’ve spoken not to mention it didn't end so well for either of them. And now? Pen in one hand and scotch in the other, Jaejoong contemplated the idea.

He takes a particularly long sip and writes the first three words down.

_‘i am dead’_

-

“He was constantly worried someone will mess something up. It irked me.” Jaejoong ruffles his hair with a sigh. “It wasn't like we were kids. We knew what we were getting into and the work that comes along.”

“But he, ah, it pisses me off just remembering it. He just felt that as a leader he should be in control of everything, even our personal lives.”

“I understand.” Doctor Know put down the notebook. “How was your relationship with him?” He voiced out fixing his glasses. “As an slightly older one, it must have been hard for you to take orders from him. Or anyone for that matter.”

“I-” Jaejoong began but stopped. Did he have a problem with that? “I just, had issues with his approach to the issues. He would just go straight forwardly and say do this do that. I hate that. I hate being bossed around.”

“He,” He could feel his throat constricting. “He pushed me into becoming something I never wanted to be.”

The psychiatrist passed him a glass of water. “Take it easy, we have all the time in the world to talk about it. Don’t rush yourself if you feel as though it could harm you to talk about whatever is paining you.”

“As good of a leader he was,“ the singer continued, “he forced me to change. Become something the company wanted and lose that authenticity we all carry in ourselves. I became one of many whilst prior to that I was Jaejoong. Myself.”

“He’d criticize me for saying things I shouldn't have said when in the past he would laugh at my broken filter. I was told to behave properly, sit properly, Jaejoong don’t look that way when you’re singing.” He laughed at how ridiculous it all sounds. “I was told and taught how to live my life for the third time after my birth.”

“Third time?” The doctor raised his look from the note pad.

“First by my biological mother, second by my parents and then him.”

“What happened then?”

“One day I remember waking up and thinking ‘maybe I do need to fix myself’, and that's when all of it started.”

Jihoon stared at him, face showing no signs of interest - only the professional obligation. “What happened on that day?”

“Yunho got poisoned.”

-

_‘i trusted you. you were my everything, you know that?_

_there are so many things… just too many for words; i want to share them all with you._

_i want to talk about how the sun was too strong this morning and how warm it felt against my skin._

_did you ever even love me, please. just say yes.’_

Marlboro has become too light for his taste, the singer muses and opens another pack.

-

“She just, poured glue into his drink.” Jaejoong has tears in his eyes by the time he takes a break to catch some air, hands shaking from sheer rage. “How could anyone do that to him? To a human being!”

“Jaejoong-shi, you need to understand people sometimes do irrational and awful things.” The doctor explained. “It is a reflection of inner fears and obsessions. A person like that does not care about the well-being of others.”

“He decided not to press charges.” He spat out. “The ever so saintly Jung Yunho.”

“You need to put yourself in his shoes. He had his own reasons. All you can do is judge them looking from afar or even up close - the real reasons remain inside him. Just as you might get judged for your drinking problem but people don’t know the truth behind it. Aren't I right?”

“I know, I know! But it doesn’t make me feel any better. Jihoon-shi,” he sighed out desperately. “The pain and fear I’ve felt that day were the strongest emotions I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. I would die if I had to go through all of that.”

“It’s okay. It’s completely normal Jaejoong-shi.”

“It wasn’t.” He stared at the doctor with resolve all over his face.

“Why do you say so? Look, jaejoong-shi. At times of grave accidents and unfortunate events it is more than normal to-” Jaejoong cut him off.

“I loved him.”

“Oh.”

-

_‘i wanna die. did you know that? of course not, how could you possibly._

_is changmin okay? are you okay? i am not. not even close yunho-yah._

_we are fighting it all, it hurts. back in the days i felt i’d be the happiest_

_if i managed to go on alone. look at me now._

_writing a letter that will never be sent; in a half drunken state._

_i just, can’t take it anymore.’_

Jaejoong paused and stared at the tip of the pen.

“What am I even doing?” With a loud crashing sound the glass of alcohol shattered against the wall.

-

“You’re not disgusted by this?”

Jihoon laughed. “Jaejoong-shi, my job as a psychiatrist is not to be disgusted. I know better than to fall under the influence of a subjective bias or else I wouldn’t be doing the job I’m doing.” He continued. “Is that what you felt? It was disgusting? That feeling of coming to terms that you love another man?’

“No!” The singer shook his hands in dismissal. “Never! I- I never saw that as something wrong, it just happened. He was everything I wasn’t. But it made me who I am today.”

“Why do you think so?”

“Realizing my feelings, _our_ feelings -” He rubbed at his nape and with a deep breath continued. “There was no turning back.”

“I started thinking how I need to be better for him, he deserves better. I needed to be perfect. He needed me to be perfect.”

“What do you mean by that?” Jihoon looked at him curiously.

“He pushed me into it. Becoming this-” he motions towards his own body and appearance, “ _shell_ of a human being. Fake and always with a smile on his face. Compliant and submissive. I lost myself.”

“But, Jaejoong-shi, when you say he pushed you into it, does it mean he voiced those things out or you thought he meant them?”

“I know he wanted that! It was obvious by the way he ordered me around and corrected my every move.”

The doctor made some more notes. “Could it be he was treating you as he was treating the other bandmates, not wanting them to know or see he’s biased when it comes to you considering your newfound relationship?”

Jaejoong kept silent.

-

Pills were something he turned to when alcohol and nicotine would lose their effect.

It was curiosity at first, the irking feeling of ‘what if’ bubbling in the back of his mind and he caved in. It was a downhill ride from then.

Taking three ibuprofens, just enough to enhance the effects of alcohol, Jaejoong plopped himself onto the bed. The soft sheets smelled of himself and nothing more. It was devastating.

The sudden realization hit him and with a cry he pressed his face into the pillow.

That little voice? It was back again, chanting _die_.

-

“I am not denying that it was how you felt at that time Jaejoong,” The doctor tried to explain. “But you need to see the bigger picture. You need to realize it was yourself that put those ideas there, and they grew because you were watering them daily with new doubts and insecurities - until they grew into a tree so deeply rooted it has left you scarred up until this day.”

-

He was back at writing the letter.

Smoke puffing out in weird shapes dancing with the streaming light, it was enchanting. One of the perks of being a smoker, Jaejoong thought.

_‘i wanna die yunho-yah. i just want to fall asleep and never wake up again._

_i want to peel off this other skin you’ve forced onto me._

_just rip it all out until there’s nothing but pure flesh and muscle._

_i’m disgusting, aren’t i? i know._

_can you come, please? just hug me. i promise i will stop. please._

_i am not who you wish me to be!!! i will never fucking be that!!!_

_i’ll die, if that’s what will make you happy’_

He doesn’t know when it was again, but he’d wake up in the morning and call out Yunho’s name in the silence of his bedroom. Met with no response, the over-furnished commodity not even allowing the echo to slap him in the face as an answer.

Would Yunho cry? If he musters up the strength to do it would Yunho bawl his eyes out and beg for him to be back? Jaejoong doesn’t know but the morbid curiosity leads him towards the dresser once again and he takes another pill.

The last part of the letter is messy and barely readable as if he doesn't want anyone to read it.

_‘i’m scared. if i do die, will you be there to embrace me? or will i be engulfed in eternal darkness’_

-

“I don’t know anymore.”

“Jaejoong-shi, it’s going to be alright. Take your time and think about it.”

“I’ve wasted so much time thinking, look where it got me.”

The doctor laughed. “I said think, not drown yourself in over thinking.”

-

_‘i did it all for you. i became who i am for you. and you just threw me away??_

_i’ve punished myself enough as is. please? this will be the last time i am begging you for anything._

_just help me. i don’t want to go away. i need you.’_

The singer cries as he writes down the last three words. Diving into his own sea of emotions and coming up for air clutching the most powerful ones - it was the most beautiful thing he had experienced in a while. Coming clean, he thinks and lights another cigarette.

But that oh so annoying whisper is growing stronger and stronger as time passes and it’s shouting - _attention whore_.

Jaejoong thinks it must be the pills.

-

“Can you tell me something about your biological father? You’ve mentioned a lawsuit in one of our previous sessions.”

Jaejoong stiffens at the subject. Even simply remembering the events of that year is painful enough, not to mention talk about them.

“It was in November.” He chuckles when something comes to his mind. “It’s always November.”

The doctor ignores the last sentence as a reminiscence of a happy time and instead focuses on the initial subject once again.

“A bit after that poisoning incident. He showed up and filed a lawsuit against my parents. Something about him knowing nothing about the adoption and how they were holding me there in delusion about him.”

“Why do you think he did that?”

“I started getting recognition, me and the group. I guess he just felt obligated to join in and take a piece of the cake.”

“And your mother?”

Jaejoong smiles. “I was blessed enough to have two, you’ll have to be more specific.”

Jihoon laughs.

-

Jaejoong, at times, wondered if Yunho even loved him. The scrawny doe-eyed boy with a broken filter and waist too narrow not to belong to a girl. He was far from perfect yet he was himself. The version of the singer and artist Kim Jaejoong he finds himself missing the most.

Perhaps it was all a mirage, a con to fool him into believing he was not enough. Always just fine but never enough.

Yunho didn’t understand him. He couldn’t understand that it was just the way he was - his Jaejoongie. A bird that should never be trapped inside a cage of limitations. Trapped underneath a plastic layer of self, mimicking a mime artist of some sort.

A fucking charade.

He couldn’t breathe. Pouring himself another shot he closed his eyes.

-

“Are you eating healthily right now?” After a hum from the singer the doctor continued. “Why was it that you began losing so much weight? What do you think was the true reason behind the starvation and alcohol induced meals.”

“I didn’t feel like eating.”

Jihoon eyed him skeptically. “Was that all Jaejoong?”

The singer was dumbfounded. “Of course it was.” He let out a forced laugh. “I left my two friends, I left a company. I had to start all over again, get my life back on it’s feet. I didn’t feel like eating.”

“Hmm.” Scribbling something down the psychiatrist continued. “You mentioned the knee injury back in 2005. You lost a lot of weight back then too, didn’t you?”

“What does that have to do with any of this?”

“Jaejoong.” Jihoon removed his glasses and crossed his legs. “As far as I’ve come to realize, you are a very self conscious person. You see yourself as an object, let’s put it down this way.”

Jaejoong didn’t interrupt him.

“At the beginning you were innocent, a bright fluid making it’s way through everything. Almost as water. That was until you ran into another fluid with it’s own color and that’s when things started getting shape. You affected him and he affected you, and with that the outlines changed and shifted - looking for that perfect position to fit like two pieces of a puzzle.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The thing is, Jaejoong, you got lost. Somewhere on that road to success and in between the heavy schedules your mind simply tried to find a way to fight the ongoing changes being thrown at you. You adapted. All humans do. It is the most natural thing to do.” He paused.

“But, all those events from your childhood and early adolescence affected you greatly, more than you could imagine.”

-

_‘i’ve never needed you more in my life. do you know that?_

_i wake up at night and smoke a cigarette or two on the balcony._

_i am myself then. when the morning comes i go back to the_

_pretense of a happy and fulfilling life. am i not worthy enough?_

_why? was i not more than enough for you to land me a helping hand now…_

_this is not me yunho-yah. i can’t be what the world expects me to._

_i am broken and morbid. i have a filthy mind and a pure heart._

_i am yours. was yours. and i don’t want to live anymore.’_

-

“You cling on so tightly to what other people think of you. It has become the most prominent aspect of your life. But it is ruining you.”

“It’s not like that,” the singer counters. “I know my own worth. And what I mean to other people.”

“Then why is it that you constantly seek affirmation and attention from the people around you? Your fans? Why does each thing you do reflect someone’s opinion or statement instead of following your own accord?”

“It’s who I’ve become!!” He shouted. “I was never like that when we were teens. Never! I did what I wanted, whenever I wanted. I wore whatever the fuck I wanted! Then he strolls in all perfect and exemplary and starts fixing things that were me, a part of me! Starts shaping me into a god damned plastic ball to kick around as everyone pleases and play with it when he feels like it.” He could taste salt at the corners of his lips.

“It’s okay,” the therapist laid a hand on his shoulder. “Let it all out. It’s what we were aiming for.”

And Jaejoong cried.

-

Jaejoong remembers the day he left. The shouting piercing his ears, head throbbing in pain from all the fighting and Yunho - Yunho staring at his eyes with a blank face. Taking a sip and letting out a puff of smoke, Jaejoong realized; he wanted to stop running. He wanted to go back and do it all over in a different way.

His head was feeling light from all the drinking and cigarettes, he could barely hold that pen and write without making it look like a mess of lines.

_‘my face is still not drying, is yours the same?_

_what difference does it make anyway, you are too far from me._

_if only you were here, standing next to me_

_and whispering in my ear - i’m sorry.’_

Sorry for not seeing how hard that all was for you. Sorry for not knowing you better to see you have fears and insecurities and doubts. Sorry for not kissing the truth out of you every night we laid together in bed. Sorry for your misinterpretation of my behavior, I never wanted another you - the real you is perfect as it is. Sorry for not saying I’m sorry years ago.

It pains him more than he’d be ready to admit. He wants Yunho back. He wants to kiss and talk through kisses, he wants an apology for something he now understands Yunho was not at fault for.

But Jaejoong stopped writing it down after the first sorry.

-

“I did it all out of love. I constantly pushed myself harder and further for him to not be ashamed of having a man as a partner. So that one day he could hold my hand and introduce me to his closest friends as ‘my boyfriend Kim Jaejoong, yes Asia’s star’. I wanted to be certain I was good enough, am good enough. And he just let me do that to myself. He let me go.”

The therapist stared at him, face devoid of any emotions. After a short pause he spoke.

“It’s a big step Jaejoong. Coming here and realizing how deceiving your own mind could be when fueled with so many doubts and insecurities. How it can lead us to rash decisions that we will regret for life. It’s a huge step to realize that it’s a burden to carry for your whole life. To come to terms with it.”

“I just,” he held his face in his palms. “I want to be my old self again. I want to be happy.”

 _I want him back_ , but he doesn’t voice that thought out.

-

_‘i’m sorry. i’ve become this empty plastic shell that is slowly_

_cracking at seams. it’s not your fault. i wasn’t born to be loved._

_if my own mother could give me away you have the right to do so too._

_i just feel as if it’s all come to an end, it hurts more than i can describe.’_

Jaejoong tries to recall when did he become just a piece of plastic, something polished and shiny and bright - a show attraction. Something, that he can’t peel off. Something eternal as it never disintegrates. When was that exact moment when pushing himself for Yunho and others became the shaping of a another skin to wear and please.

He doesn’t remember.

_‘it is our fault, yunho-yah. we are responsible for how everything turned out.’_

-

“I guess I have been just pretending for so long so I don’t know anymore.”

The psychiatrist leaned back. “Instead of loving the fake, pretend version of yourself, you get to love your own version, the real you. It’s called acceptance and appreciation of your own true worth. You are not to be weighted by other people or their actions - that is all your own.”

“I’ve done horrible things to get him out of my system. I didn’t choose who or where. I just wanted to feel loved again, needed.”

“You were fooling yourself. As it may have worked so far,” Jihoon smiled, “now you know what is it that you’re craving - human affection and love. To make a connection with someone on a higher level than that of physical one. Be two parts of one whole.”

“You know, we used to be one.” It was a sad confession.

-

The sun was starting to set as Jaejoong pulled the curtains closed. The apartment was enveloped into darkness with occasional flickers of light through the cracks against the windows. It was quiet, all too quiet and the man has had enough of it. Pouring himself the last contents of the refined bottle he made his way back to the room, spilling a few pink pills into the drink. The letter was sitting idly on the wooden surface, an ashtray filled with Marlboro stubs by the side.

The empty room and the memories that come rushing in at nights spent in sweat or tears. Their shenanigans in bed, comforting nights spent in each other’s embrace; all gone.

Walking towards the bathroom he picks the letter up and grips tight in his palm. His lifeline.

The tiled bathroom floor is cold against his bare feet and he fights the shiver that runs up his spine. He looks like a mess - the shirt damp with sweat and sweatpants hanging too low on his hips. Even the hand that is gripping the glass containing the mixture of alcohol and drugs is paler than usual. He pays it no further attention.

He wonders what now. And as he lays into the cold bathtub and turns the shower head on, everything feels clearer than ever.

“I fucked up,” Jaejoong chokes out and brings the glass to his lips. The water is cold; a striking contrast to the heated body, it is almost painful. But it makes him feel more alive than he has ever been in the past two years.

Everything hurts. A familiar room, but no Yunho in it. Calling out the man’s name without even noticing his own slip of the tongue. Tear-streaked pillows that never seemed to help him cry less.

No more Yunho to hug him and wipe those tears away.

It is all too much and all too sudden, and Jaejoong doesn't fight it any longer.

-

“Was that why you started abusing drugs and medicaments?”

Jaejoong sighs out. “As a public figure, it’s not like I could just snort some cocaine here and there or heat up some heroin in one of the bathrooms as I am waiting for my schedule to begin.” He cards his fingers through the soft strands and continues. “I didn’t want to go on _that_ path. But I needed something to make me feel less tense and paranoid. I guess, that’s when it all started.”

It’s a blur actually, Jaejoong recalls. A blur of memories and situations that led him to swallow five diazepams at once. It was that numbness, that weightless state of mind that pulled him in and soon it became a habit.

A glass of wine or scotch with few pills - just enough to lull the voices down. Just enough to make him feel alive when just a step away from death.

“What happened? You said you’ve been clean for two months now, am I correct?” The therapist eyes the singer.

“I-” Jaejoong begins but stops. Should he say it? Shifting his gaze towards the big window he continued.

“I did something very stupid.”

-

He brings the letter closer and reads the final paragraph. The water is kicking all over the paper, smearing the still fresh ink and he fights the sudden spell of dizziness that attacks him.

_‘this was nothing but the quiet strain, of all that i wanted to say and couldn’t._

_i still love you, do you know that?’_

[He can feel the plastic melting away as he closes his eyes, the sound of water never ceasing.]

-

“So Jaejoong,” The therapist is smiling politely. “How did _that_ situation make you feel? ”

“It made me realize we all need help at some point in our lives, it’s only our choice whether we’ll voice that need out or not.”

Jihoon nodded and hummed in approval.

“This is me voicing it out.”

-

**Author's Note:**

> to think that something as short as this forced me into many sleepless nights. i’m a lazy author and i feel more than happy that i made it through [i have this habit of giving up]. please note that this is nothing but my own interpretation within the borders of canon; it does not necessarily represent the character's actual feelings. i wanted to touch more topics such as the real plastic aspect of idol life (cosmetic surgeries) but that's a story of its own. i just hope that reading this you could see better that internal fears and insecurities, urges and addictions are not to be ashamed of - they make us who we are. but also, whenever you feel as if that edge has gotten too close, seek someone out. you would be surprised what great listeners people can actually be! also, if you've missed the note at the beginning of this work, to score this fic visit [this survey](https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSfBiwS_O482D1KyqmCzotl4WQ1-p7h7F3Bp3hmio0qD1RT7MA/viewform?usp=sf_link%20%E2%80%A6)! ☆


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